A Really Bad Day
by noukinav018
Summary: Summary: Today was a bad day. Yes, there's nothing that could make things any worse. To end waking up late for his night shift, not taking the usual cuppa before such a feat and to top it all to have a cabbie getting lost when you fell asleep was not what John Watson had hoped for.


**Thanks again for all the amazing people who read and reviewed my previous one shots. If you still haven't, you're welcomed to do it anytime. I really love having feedback; it is a motivation to try it better next time. I truly appreciate it!**

**Summary: Today was a bad day. Yes, there's nothing that could make things any worse. To end waking up late for his night shift, not taking the usual cuppa before such a feat and to top it all to have a cabbie getting lost when you fell asleep was not what John Watson had hoped for.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Sherlock (sniffs). I'm just borrowing these brilliant characters. All credit goes to Sir Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I only own my idea. Besides, all of this is for the fun of writing.**

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**A REALLY BAD DAY**

Today was a bad day.

Yes, there's nothing that could make things any worse. To end waking up late for his night shift, not taking the usual cuppa before such a feat and to top it all to have a cabbie getting lost when you fell asleep was not what John Watson had hoped for.

Stupid Sherlock Holmes and his ungodly hours with the blasted violin. He had not a clue how their friendship worked in the first place, but it did. Somehow, by some strange powers it did.

For it was not an everyday ocurrence to see someone against common relationship undertakings to be in fact the best friend of an individual who relished in keeping (or trying to keep) a social active life.

God help him because he cared. At least Sherlock's private conversations with himself had diminished substantially.

"One step at a time John Watson. This is a project that requires the utmost patience."

The man in question was in the process of calling his beloved boss and girlfriend to explain himself… for the umpteenth time this week. He didn't know how he had the luck of finding a woman as understanding as Mary Morstan. He had to openly admit that he was quite impressed by how she wasn't scared off by Sherlock since they met for the first time.

No such luck. It was impossible to call her this time…

Because his mobile was out of credit AGAIN.

_Sherlock Bloody Holmes!_

She should have listened to Mary about changing to the 25 £ plan. No matter, he'll have to visit EE during the week.

John took a deep breath to calm himself and he moved his fingers around his temples in an attempt to subside his irritation.

His nostrils flared in agitation and frustration. He was on the verge of sporting a nasty fit, one thing he didn't need right now. In turn, he was very occupied with his own monologue. Sherlock was really rubbing off on him in the worst possible way.

_Why does Sherlock blasted Holmes use my phone and my laptop when he has his own to begin with? _

_And where am I?_

_Wait. This is not Saint Barts._

_Oh, this cabbie is going to listen to the most dark complains for taking me to places I did not ask for!_

John proceeded to knock on the glass to grab the driver's attention, only to be blantantly ignored. He pursed his lips and placed his hands into fists on his lap seeking to contain his anger.

Fortunately for him, the car stopped on a red light and John not in the mood to put up with more uncalled brazenness for another second, turned the doorknob to open it with no success. It was stuck.

He tried it on more time and got the same result. His mind was set in soldier mode and it put him on edge. His eyes promptly narrowed being careful enough to not attract the attention from the elusive taxi driver.

He glimpsed at the light one more time.

It was still red and he made his decision. His faithful Sig was taken out without hesitation. He unlocked it and he fired the door. He swiftly kicked it and it bulged better than anticipated. The force of the impact of the bullet and Watson's own premeditated abuse resulted in loosen hinges. He couldn't have asked for something better. Only there was another problem. The cabbie chose that exact time to speed up, leaving John no option but to jump out of a moving vehicle and landing the middle of the pavement. Not that he hadn't done it before… Though this wasn't Afghanistan. This was supposed to be the secure city of London.

Who was he kidding?

There was no such thing as an ordinary boring life if you were linked to Sherlock Holmes.

_Why would he want to be addressed like that if his first name was William instead?_

_Oh sod it!_

_How did I get distracted by something as ridiculous as my friend's Christian name?_

He didn't get the time to think about it when he noticed the shots aimed at him dangerously close. He promptly crawled looking for cover behind a column in the nearby corner of the unknown street he was at. He continued to observe for any other hostile sources and snipers that could be able to exterminate him before he got his arse back to acceptable safety.

His weapon ready to fire clear targets rested in his right hand. His well skilled ears listening closely for any strange noise. He willfully restrained himself to make any sound that would give away his position.

The slight change in the form of a torch light coming from his back stopped him in his tracks and he twisted on the ground pointing his pistol to the sudden intruder.

Andrenaline pumping left no more contemplations but to state a clear warning to his non auspicious antagonist.

"Don't move or I'll shoot."

The shadow persisted in getting closer so John Watson does what he's been trained to do in dire situations. A bullet precise to cause discomfort and create a distraction is shot.

A loud gasp and a hiss were heard.

John approached stealthily with his weapon all set once more. The man in front of him was taller and he'll have to take him by surprise to overpower him… Or maybe not.

The figure in front of him was favouring his left heg from what he was seeing. He caught the heavy panting coming from the man hidden in darkness. His torch apparently forgotten.

He was still assessing his target. He must be at least six foot tall and not really a muscular fellow after taking a closer look to the offender. He was actually slender with dark curly hair… A scarf blowing in the wind was visible now.

_Hold on._

He could see the usual long coat too.

_Bloody hell._

He gasped and drew his revolver back and pocketing in the back of his battered trousers. An indignant voice replied him at last.

"About time you figured out it was me you idiot."

The voice was clipped as ever with a sound of sarcasm to mask the pain and John Watson answered back as only he was capable of. He was outraged, but most of all he was infinitely annoyed. He took some steps forward watching the face of his nonsensical friend for the first time. He stuck out his index finger as to make a point of what he was about to say in a stage whisper.

"And how the hell was I supposed to know it was you?!"

The wounded man rolled his eyes and it ignited the doctor's ire.

"I could have killed you and you didn't even bother to text me!"

The detective snorted and it was all John could do not to punch him in the face. Sherlock sighed.

"I… I miscalculated. I didn't think you would actually shoot me! That's why I had my latern."

John crossed his arms stiffling a sardonic laugh. He then covered his eyes with his left hand trying to reign in his exasperation.

" You appear in the middle of nowhere when I was busy trying not to be killed by some character I Ignore. You choose to approach a marskman as I and hoped for a streak of dubious luck that I wouldn't put a bullet between your eyes."

Sherlock's smirk turned into a scowl but conceded the soldier's point with a wave of his hand and continues to appease John the only way he was familiar with: rational thought.

"I knew you wouldn't put a bullet between my eyes, as you nicely said it. I was not aiming anything at you. Need I remind you that being a moral individual as you are, the only moment when you go for the kill is when there is no other option at hand?"

John simpered mockinly and stiffened. Sherlock opened his mouth to try to amend his mistake. He was aware he was in dangerous ground,but had not the faintest idea on how to correct the situation. John's voice is heard again, but not the usual taunting Sherlock was used to fend off. In turn he listened to the flat voice of a soldier concealing the true nature of his thoughts. His head turned to look to the wall avoiding the detective's gaze.

"I killed people in Afghanistan and I didn't wait to see if they were going to harm me. Distance was not an issue. I was the best marskman in my unit and the reason why I was captain in such a short time. You got lucky this time Sherlock Bloody Holmes. So unless you don't want to handicap my mind for life the day you foolishly make me think you're my target… "

John then turned his head back and grinned with amusement.

"You have the worst survival instincts by the way, you're probably clinically suicidal at times."

Sherlock didn't mention anything, but was internally relieved John was back to his ordinary self. He needed to fill in his comrade on the latest developments of their last case.

"I called you after you left John and you didn't answer. When Mary told me your phone went straight to voicemail as well, I understood something was wrong."

Watson blinked in surprise. "You talked to Mary?" To which Sherlock nods.

"The cases of the missing paintings and jewels… I discovered that these con men are in possesion of some very useful technology to avoid any victim have the chance to communicate with anyone. That's when I put the two and two together and called Mycroft."

John's eyes were big a saucers by now. "YOU called Mycroft to find me?! Ok, you were definitely worried about me. That's flattering, my well being is more important than your grudge against your brother."

Sherlock pursed his lips containing his distaste. "Having the assistance of the British government has it's advantages sometimes."

All or a sudden, a explosion occured near them throwing them off balance to the ground.

John groaned and Sherlock gasped.

It's then when John is reminded that he had hurt Sherlock in their previous skirmish. The taller man caught his worried look and putting him at ease.

"I'll live. You just grazed my leg. We need to get out of here. Mycroft's car is on the other side of the street."

John nodded and helped his best friend to be back on his feet.

"Our ideas on how to have fun in the middle of the night are hideous."

"I would have to agree on that John. Now, we have three options on how to get back..."

"How so?"

"The shortest way out leaves us in plain sight and there are three marksmen hidden in that area to our right after the corridor ends."

"Then option number one it is."

"I thought you said that it was I the one with a suicidal wish."

"I still got rounds. I can get close enough to shoot them. Problem solved."

"I was about to offer another route. It takes longer, but it's been abandoned for a long time."

"Not a chance Sherlock. You're wounded and we need to take care of that as soon as possible."

"You're not even going to listen to my third idea?"

"Nope. Stay back and follow me."

"Fine."

"Ok then, I'll need your torch to work this off. Do as I say so we can get our arses out of here."

"What's with the colourful language now John?"

"Oh, I'm just having a really bad day."

With that more gunshots were heard and both men started moving figuring their way out. The aforementioned case still standing, but waiting for a new day to endure unraveling the confusing puzzle at hand. Of one thing the detective was certain, he was not crossing John in one if his bad days ever again… for the remaining part of this week.

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**Author's note: There you have it! John Watson in one of his bad days and Sherlock with a lack of common sense for self preservation. ****Please review after you're done reading and let me know your thoughts. I really appreciate feedback as I enjoy giving it every time I go through a story. **

**Happy reading and writing to all of you :)**

—**Noukinav018—**


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